Part 22 (1/2)

”Oh, is it here you are?”

”Yes--but you shout so, I could hear you all through the house. Who is it that's coming?”

”Ferdinand Holm and Klaus Brock. Coming to the christening after all.

Great Caesar!--what do you say to that, Merle?”

Merle was pale, and her cheeks a little sunken. Two years more had pa.s.sed, and she had her second child now on her knee--a little boy with big wondering eyes.

”How fine for you, Peer!” she said, and went on undressing the child.

”Yes; but isn't it splendid of them to set off and come all that way, just because I asked them? By Jove, we must look sharp and get the place smartened up a bit.”

And sure enough the whole place was soon turned upside-down--cartloads of sand coming in for the garden walks and the courtyard, and painters hard at work repainting the houses. And poor Merle knew very well that there would be serious trouble if anything should be amiss with the entertainment indoors.

At last came the hot August day when the flags were hoisted in honour of the expected guests. Once more the hum of mowing machines and hay-rakes came from the hill-slopes, and the air was so still that the columns of smoke from the chimneys of the town rose straight into the air. Peer had risen early, to have a last look round, inspecting everything critically, from the summer dress Merle was to wear down to the horses in the stable, groomed till their coats shone again. Merle understood.

He had been a fisher-boy beside the well-dressed son of the doctor, and something meaner yet in relation to the distinguished Holm family. And there was still so much of the boy in him that he wanted to show now at his very best.

A crowd of inquisitive idlers had gathered down on the steamboat landing when the boat swung in and lay by the pier. The pair of bays in the Loreng carriage stood tossing their heads and twitching and stamping as the flies tormented them; but at last they got their pa.s.sengers and were given their heads, setting off with a wild bound or two that scattered those who had pressed too near. But in the carriage they could see the two strangers and the engineer, all three laughing and gesticulating, and talking all at once. And in a few moments they vanished in a cloud of dust, whirling away beside the calm waters of the fjord.

Some way behind them a cart followed, driven by one of the stable-boys from Loreng, and loaded with big bra.s.s-bound leather trunks and a huge chest, apparently of wood, but evidently containing something frightfully heavy.

Merle had finished dressing, and stood looking at herself in the gla.s.s.

The light summer dress was pretty, she thought, and the red bows at neck and waist sat to her satisfaction. Then came the roll of wheels outside, and she went out to receive her guests.

”Here they are,” cried Peer, jumping down. ”This is Ferdinand Pasha, Governor-General of the new Kingdom of Sahara--and this is His Highness the Khedive's chief pipe-cleaner and body-eunuch.”

A tall, stooping man with white hair and a clean-shaven, dried-up face advanced towards Merle. It was Ferdinand Holm. ”How do you do, Madam?”

he said, giving her a dry, bony hand.

”Why, this is quite a baronial seat you have here,” he added, looking round and settling his pince-nez.

His companion was a round, plump gentleman, with a little black goatee beard and dark eyes that blinked continually. But his smile was full of mirth, and the grip of his hand felt true. So this was Klaus Brock.

Peer led his two friends in through the rooms, showing them the view from the various windows. Klaus broke into a laugh at last, and turned to Merle: ”He's just the same as ever,” he said--”a little stouter, to be sure--it's clear you've been treating him well, madam.” And he bowed and kissed her hand.

There was hock and seltzer ready for them--this was Merle's idea, as suitable for a hot day--and when the two visitors had each drunk off a couple of gla.s.ses, with an: ”Ah! delicious!”, Peer came behind her, stroked her hand lightly and whispered, ”Thanks, Merle--first-rate idea of yours.”

”By the way,” exclaimed Ferdinand Holm suddenly, ”I must send off a telegram. May I use the telephone a moment?”

”There he goes--can't contain himself any longer!” burst out Klaus Brock with a laugh. ”He's had the telegraph wires going hard all the way across Europe--but you might let us get inside and sit down before you begin again here.”

”Come along,” said Peer. ”Here's the telephone.”

When the two had left the room, Klaus turned to Merle with a smile.

”Well, well--so I'm really in the presence of Peer's wife--his wife in flesh and blood. And this is what she looks like! That fellow always had all the luck.” And he took her hand again and kissed it. Merle drew it away and blushed.

”You are not married, then, Mr. Brock?”

”I? Well, yes and no. I did marry a Greek girl once, but she ran away.